


What I Hate

by Aethelflaed



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Not Oblivious (Good Omens), Aziraphale teases, Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley grumbles, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Silly, Slice of Life, just two guys hanging out, that's it that's the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:42:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24690250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aethelflaed/pseuds/Aethelflaed
Summary: “You know what I hate?” Crowley asked, lounging on the sofa, feet dangling over one armrest, scowling at his undersized telephone.“Pears?” Aziraphale hazarded. He sat at his desk, happily organizing his receipts in preparation for tax season.“No. Well, yes, but that’s not it.”--Just a little scene from the life of Aziraphale and Crowley after the Apocalypse.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 223





	What I Hate

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't posted anything in a while so here. Have something light.
> 
> Fun fact: this fic is exactly 666 words. Crowley approves.

“You know what I hate?” Crowley asked, lounging on the sofa, feet dangling over one armrest, scowling at his undersized telephone.

“Pears?” Aziraphale hazarded. He sat at his desk, happily organizing his receipts in preparation for tax season. One of his favorite things to do, in a long list of favorites.

“No. Well, yes, but that’s not it.” Crowley tapped the screen a few more times, possibly indicating it was broken.

“Hmmm, the Spanish Inquisition?”

“Again, _yes,_ but – you’re not supposed to bring that up.”

“Oh, alright.” Aziraphale sat back in his chair and reached for his cup of tea. He barely had time to notice it was empty before Crowley flicked a finger and it once more filled to the brim with steaming liquid. “Let’s see. When a lorry is partway through an intersection and then stops for no discernable reason? I always learn _several_ new curse words when that happens.”

“No, it – fine.” He huffed and shifted on the sofa, bringing his telephone to a different angle so he could scrub his thumb angrily across the screen. “Do you know what I _hate_ and yet find myself interacting with _right now?”_

Aziraphale sipped his tea in thought, letting the rich blend of light and dark flavors rest on his tongue for a long moment as he turned the possibility over in his mind.

“The new smells I’m testing out in the shop?”

Crowley finally looked up from the mobile contraption, frowning furiously. “Now that you mention it, what _is_ that? Boiled cabbage?”

“Well spotted! Yes, and just a hint of wet dog. Though it shouldn’t be lingering in this corner.” He set down his mug and waved a hand, replacing some of the scent with warm bread and a hint of spice. It was nearly dinner time. At least, it was almost certainly nearly dinner time _somewhere_ in the world.

“Very impressive. But again, no. It’s _social media.”_ He spat the word in disgust.

“Social media!” Aziraphale gasped.

 _“Social. Media.”_ Crowley emphasized each word with a shake of his telephone.

“My dear,” Aziraphale said, picking up his mug again. “I haven’t the first idea what that is.”

“Haven’t the – what do you think I’m doing on this mobile all day?”

“Hmmm, Crossing Animals? I heard that’s popular right now.”

“No. No. Just. I’m.” He waved the black rectangle vaguely. “I’m on social media trying to stir up a bit of harmless rage, only I can’t because there’s so much _actual_ rage, with half the people upset over how unfair the world is and the other half upset that they can’t tell everyone else what to do, and I just – why do I even _bother?”_

“Well,” Aziraphale tapped his fingers against the mug. “Can’t you just – do the opposite? Use this Socialist Medium to spread some cheer?”

Crowley stared at him a long moment. Pulled off his glasses to stare better.

Then he turned his full attention back to the silly telephone, tapping away furiously. “Just wait until I tell Twitter that. Literally _everyone_ is going to explode!”

Aziraphale watched over the top of his tea mug, tutting quietly. “Tell me, my dear Crowley, is there anything in this world you _don’t_ hate?”

“Not really. Even the things I like, I hate. ‘M a demon. We’re complex.”

“You hate _all_ the things you like?”

“Mmm.” Golden eyes flicked over to Aziraphale, something that was almost a smile but far from it stretching across Crowley’s lips. “Although, I suppose, there are a few things I _almost_ don’t hate. Almost.”

“Indeed?” Aziraphale stood up and carried his mug across the little office space to the sofa. Crowley sat up a little, allowing Aziraphale to slide into the corner, then lay back again, head coming to rest on the angel’s lap.

“Then again,” Crowley mused, turning back to his little machine, “apart from the Bentley, I can’t really think of any right now.”

“Be quiet you,” Aziraphale said, lowering a hand to tangle fingers in soft red curls.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I had a pretty crummy couple of weeks but this made me smile. If it cheered you up any, drop a comment!
> 
> More to come soon! <3


End file.
